


Fashion Advice

by sassmasterkillian



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, well i had a friendship idea and now 2 hours later i have a fic so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-28
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-16 10:34:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/861070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassmasterkillian/pseuds/sassmasterkillian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m still shocked that I agreed to let you go shopping with me.” Combeferre said to Courfeyrac as he pushed the mall’s entrance door. “I’m fairly certain that I can dress myself.”</p><p>“But tonight’s the group get together at Grantaire’s,” He countered with a devilish grin spreading across his face. “And besides, Eponine’s gonna be there.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fashion Advice

The two friends had decided to meet that day to go shopping at their local mall (though Combeferre wouldn’t say they mutually decided, it was more like Courfeyrac texting him “I’m coming to the mall with you whether you like it or not.”). It was the perfect opportunity dress to impress for their monthly movie night. And this, in all honesty, terrified Combeferre.

Combeferre rolled his eyes nonchalantly. “I know that.”

“Well you gotta dress well. And I know how to dress well, my friend.”

“And I’m supposed to really trust you on that?”

Courfeyrac raised an eyebrow smugly and swung his arm over Combeferre’s shoulders, pulling him closer. “Damn straight you are.”

~~

The pair mindlessly walked throughout the mall, ducking into a couple of stores every once and awhile. Yet none of the clothes appealed to their liking, and left the stores empty handed.

“My feet are so sore!” Courfeyrac whined, eyeing one of the free benches in the food court, which looked so comfortable. “I swear that bench over there is just calling me.”

The young philosophy student sighed. “Can’t we just go to one more store?” He adjusted his glasses quickly as he glanced around the crowded mall, constantly milling with people going in and out of stores. He tilted his head slightly and pointed his finger across the way. “Like that one over there.”  
  
Courfeyrac squinted his eyes at the dim lit store in disgust, then suddenly broke out into a wicked grin. Something had sparked inside of him.  
“Why of course.” He answered cheerfully.  
  
Combeferre nodded and proceeded to continue on his way toward the store. Courfeyrac followed him silently, his tooth bearing grin still plastered on his face.

Finally in the store, the two dispersed in the seemingly endless array of clothes, littered with racks upon racks of darling fabrics and trendy prints. Courfeyrac headed towards the back end of the store, full of dresses and women’s clothing, but Combeferre never dared to question him. When he was satisfied with the few articles of clothing that he genuinely liked, he headed over to the change rooms without a second thought.  
It was only when Courfeyrac banged on his change room door that he realized that he’d forgotten about his friend.

“’Ferre, I come bearing a gift.” Courfeyrac announced clamorously, making sure that everyone in the change room could hear him.

“If by a gift you mean a dress,” Combeferre mumbled as he slipped into a dark green sweater, and soon after poked his head out of the dressing room. “I’m sorry but I’ll have to turn it down.”

Courfeyrac chuckled softly, shaking his head. “No, you dork. I brought you this shirt.” He twiddled the shirt in his hands, then quickly tossed it to Combeferre. “Try it on.”  
Combeferre stared back at him hesitantly, but closed the door without another word.

“So why’d you pick this out?” Combeferre asked as he slipped the shirt on, which was covered in a camouflage print.  
  
“Oh y’know, just cause.” The cheeky man smirked to himself. “You do remember that I have such a great sense of fashion, no?”  
  
A few moments later, Combeferre stepped out of the change room, arms spread wide open. “You think I look good in this?” He gawked while picking at the v neck shirt. It happened to be a bit tighter than he was used to.  
“Oh come on, it shows off your rock hard abs.”

Combeferre snorted. “I don’t have rock hard abs, Courf.”

“Sure you do!” Courfeyrac poked him stomach playfully, making Combeferre back away instinctively. “See, you have abs. And nice arms. Show ‘em off will you?”

Combeferre stood there, completely silent.

“Fine.” He shook his head while closing the door. “Only for you, though.”

Courfeyrac flashed his oh-so charming grin, and patted the change room door. “That’s my boy! See you at the cash.”

~~  
When the pair returned to their apartments, Combeferre texted Courfeyrac on a whim.

 **Combeferre [7:15]:** Are you sure this shirt is okay? I’m iffy about it.  
 **Courfeyrac [7:16]:** you look fine babe  
 **Combeferre [7:18]:** Don’t call me babe.  
 **Courfeyrac [7:22]:** alright, sweet cheeks!  
 **Combeferre [7:25]:** And it’s at moments like these where I question our friendship.  
 **Courfeyrac [7:30]:** love you too xoxo see you in a few

~~

Later that night, Combeferre arrived at Grantaire’s apartment in a sort of nervous state. He couldn’t stop running his hand through his already disheveled hair, nor could he stop adjusting his glasses. Eponine hadn’t been at the group’s last movie night, and even though the idea of her being there excited him beyond belief, it scared him just as much. He laced and unlaced his fingers edgily after ringing the doorbell, trying to stay as calm as possible. The door opened swiftly, and a voice greeted him tenderly.  
  
“Combeferre! It’s nice to see you.”  
  
He shot a look down at the figure before him, which just so happened to be Eponine. He hitched a breath in his throat, taken aback. She was absolutely radiant, even just standing there.  
Eponine’s smile soon faltered into a confused stare. “Nice shirt.” Combeferre’s breath stopped all together and glanced down at his shirt, then back at Eponine’s shirt, which mirrored his.  
  
 _Oh no._

Courfeyrac stumbled clumsily towards the door, a beer placed gingerly on his lips. “Hey you guys!” He slung his free arm around Eponine while taking another swig of his beer.  
“I’m liking these matching shirt’s y’know. It’s very adorable.”

Combeferre’s mouth hung open in disbelief.

Eponine laughed softly. "Yeah, adorable. Alright.” She unhooked herself from Courfeyrac’s tight grip, retreating back into Grantaire’s living room. Combeferre’s eyes were glued to his feet; with blood rushing to his cheeks. He inhaled quickly, raised his head calmly, and looked Courfeyrac dead in the eye.

“I’m going to fucking _murder_ you.”

Too intoxicated to take him serious, Courfeyrac burst out into a hearty laugh. “At least you’ll look good while doing it.”

Combeferre pushed Courfeyrac’s shoulder in an attempt to hide the obvious grin on his face. “Oh yeah, sure.” It was hard not to laugh at such a silly situation.

It was the least to say that Combeferre never let Courfeyrac give him fashion advice from that night onward.


End file.
